


Subtle

by aboutmikasa (Coco_c)



Series: Tea House [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, rivamika, subtle scent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coco_c/pseuds/aboutmikasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sweet, disturbing and mysterious scent haunts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Mikasa and Levi belong to Isayama Hayime… actually they belong to each other.  
> For RivaMika Week, day 1: Fruity  
> Versión en español http://archiveofourown.org/works/4328097

Subtle and disturbing. The scent filled his senses and dazed his mind. Maybe he mistook the smell; probably he walked close to the kitchen, or maybe the Braus girl did something out of protocol again— better not to know. Keep thinking about it is stupid, he smelled something but it was brief, way too brief. He shakes his head, paperwork, and insufferable long meetings wait for him. The halls are empty and clean enough for his standards, and he leans against the wall. His leg hurts and has been hurting him for a while. Hanji told him he needs to take a break and therapy; her suggestion sounds impossible and hilarious, he has a freaking demanding job and no time. The absence of personal time is the definition of his life. Nonetheless, winter is coming and his joint resents the months they spent hiding and plotting. The pain is there and makes him think that taking a couple of days is necessary and perhaps doable. The idea, foreign and bizarre, amuses him; a pause within the war.

The last meeting was unbearable, worse than imagined. The bureaucracy would persist no matter who moves the strings in the government; noblemen and military are the same. The hell with his pain! He needs a distraction and the only suitable thing on his mind is a fight, tough a sparring has to work. Those pigs make him lose his temper way too easy. ‘ _Shitty pricks._ ’ Nothing has change; bolo ties, hypocrisy, lie and people dying, the same shit. However, he believes in Historia, the girl has balls and interesting plans. It’s weird, all those years and he can rely on something so fragile and strong as this Queen and the bunch of brats under his orders. Hanji is right, he’s getting softer. ‘ _I’m fucking disgusting,_ ’ the involuntary smile makes him cringe. One last meeting and the day will be over, or so he hopes. If possible, he would leave this bullshit to Erwin, the useless talk tires him. Levi is a man of action and two months of meetings ask for a fight; a soldier can wish, he has work to do and postpones his needs, as usual.

It’s around 2100 hours when his long fucking-boring day ends and a warm bath to wake his limbs and get rid of his thoughts tempts him. The world will survive even if he indulges a little pleasure— maybe. The bath relaxes him and helps with his humor. The meeting wasn’t a complete waste of time, at least he can’t complain —he can, they’re still inconsiderate and useless pieces of shit but he’s choosing his battles—; a small victory for Historia and her orphanage is what he needed. Three months ago they were living in a tiny cabin and his brats were everywhere; a bit of peace feels good.

With a better mood, he moves to the kitchen; the place isn’t cold and he sits on a table next to the door, ready to enjoy a cup of tea — ** _and there it’s again_**. This time he swears someone was behind him. He breathes deeply, longing for the sweet, warm scent in the air. As soon as he overcomes the distraction, he turns but nobody’s there. Two things are sure,  **he needs to know** , and he didn’t heat the water; maybe someone cooked something minutes before he came; that would explain the scent.  _‘… no, it’s not food,_ ’ food wouldn't disturb him this way.

The haunting fragrance is his last thought that night and the first one the next morning.

The following days resemble the previous, meetings, stupidity, shit, some development, more shit, and nonsense; meeting after meeting. The truth be told, he finds himself searching for a certain sweet trace in the air, yet he’ll die before admit it; he seeks and he finds it. First in a hall, but is packed with people and he can’t find the source. A second time, in the garden behind the main building, and he knows he’s fooling himself thinking that a tree could be what he has looked for the last couple of days. The third time, he’s in the middle of a meeting and someone asks for Hanji; the door is behind him the familiar voice is loud enough to not being mistaken. It’s a normal standard the sense of fear and confusion when the heart skips a beat; what it’s not normal is the disappointment in his guts the second after he identifies the owner.

 That night, he doesn’t go to the kitchen, pissed with Sina, Rose, and Maria.

His morning is free and finally, he sweats away his frustrations. A good fight requires a good match even if the chosen one is an extremely annoying girl. She isn’t “that” annoying anymore, he corrects himself. Mikasa has changed, she is not reckless and —he recognizes— has become his right hand. The last time he saw her, they talked for hours and it felt nice. They had talked and sparred a lot while living in the cabin. He wants to spar and force his muscles until his mind stops; Mikasa is the strongest in his squad and the only suitable option for said task. ‘ _She will take my place but first, she has to knock me out’._  

His squad arrived a week ago and he has seen them only a couple of minutes,  _her_  more than anyone else. The infuriating red scarf makes her visible everywhere; yet, they haven’t talk.

Their hand-to-hand combat training was ending when he arrives. Fighting is all about focus and the girl’s concentration is kind of scaring; win used to be easy for him, now she makes him sweat and her strokes leave dark marks all over his body. She’s a disciplined student, eager to learn from him, ‘ _she really has changed. She trusts me.’_  The more she trusts him, the more he can teach her. The girl spars with Jean. The boy aims for her head; his movements, clear and fast impress Levi. However, no matter how fast he is, she is faster. A new strike in her ribcage makes her go back a step. Levi knows her next movement. He closes his eyes; she’ll win in seconds. Mikasa lowers her back, steadying her legs, then she gains control with a joint lock. She throws two or three hits and Jean rests on the floor.

“Ackerman, with me.”

She fixed her eyes on him, remains in silence for a moment and nods. They don’t talk, there’s no need of it. Mikasa looks fierce and unrivaled, and Levi already feels the adrenaline running through his body. His protégé won’t go easy on him and that’s what he’s looking for.

Later that night he remembers. Mikasa is merciless even in training; she is getting better, faster, and stronger. The first hit could send him to the infirmary. He has missed their training, her frustration when he wins, and her determination; sparring with her lights a flame. After cleaning the room and himself, he rests in the bed, feeling the ache in every muscle. Winning was fun, a non-easy task, and he enjoyed it. The girl, scarfless and sweaty, almost kicked his ass. Perhaps that’s why he isn’t going to the kitchen, to avoid another letdown.

After insistent knocks, his exhausted and recently showered body moves to open the damn door.

Mikasa Ackerman is the last person in the world he expects.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is harsh and she averts her eyes.

“I was wondering if you are okay,” she has a tray with tea and is looking at him with concern. “Have you not eaten yet?” 

_What’s the thing of this girl with food?_

A simple nod is his answer; he’s not a man of words. Levi moves from the door and she enters his room. Not long ago they spent nights talking, alone, yet it’s the first time he’s conscious, really freaking conscious about her presence in his room. When she walks by his side he breathes slowly; the tea bouquet wraps her and he’s disappointed.

“You look tired; not your usual tired… I mean,” her words are a bit rushed and she rests the tray on the table. “You should try to rest, Captain. Drink your tea earlier.” 

_How does she know?_

Maybe she doesn’t know, maybe he’s delusional and his mind is slower because he’s tired but her actions and words trap his attention and he’s thinking even if he shouldn’t. For weeks they talked late at night,  **drinking black tea**. Nevertheless, she’s serving him the fruity-citrus tea he has been drinking every night since he arrived at the castle. Critics wouldn’t be his choice, but he allowed a little change for no particular reason; a change that no one else knows, or knew, considering the cup she offers him.

She couldn’t know— Why the hell he has bugs in his stomach?

The doorknob moves, trapped in her hand and she is about to leave when he calls her.

“Ackerman.”  **He needs to know**.  “Yesterday in the meeting with the Garrisons… Were you with Braus when she talked with Hanji?”

“Yes,” her voice is soft and her eyes are fixed on the floor.

“You… have been in the kitchen past curfew.” It’s not a question, he has no doubt about it.

She hides her face in her scarf, a gesture he’s coming to treasure. Piece by piece his mind is completing the puzzle; every time he noticed the perfume, a slight tint of red in the corner of his eye claimed his attention… Every single time he was looking for her; still, he avoided her, denying what he has known for so long. Levi’s a man of actions and closes the space between them, takes the ends of her scarf drawing her near and resting his head against Mikasa’s neck, savoring the scent and losing himself in the sensation. His other hand moves to her skin and his thumb rests against her raced pulse. He knew it for sure, it wasn’t the tree; the fruity fragrance mixes with her body scent. She is unique.

He whispers in her ear, “You smell like green apples. It suits you, Mikasa.”

Levi’s hand caresses her cheek and she leans against his palm.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not a native English speaker and this is my first try writing anything this long, I write freaking long things in Spanish though (don’t hurt your eyes reading this). Why am I doing this would you ask? Why not? Long story: Writing is learning, move out from your comfort zones (I’m having a small heart attack). Short story: I’m an M and my own S. I want to believe it’s not that bad. Anyway I love challenge myself and I know it’s far, far, far from perfect. If you speak/half understand Spanish, please read the Spanish version.


End file.
